I’ve been to busy these days that there’s some slack in my blogging. But these sort of days may not be forever, and for certain there comes a time when normalcy would begin again.
For the meantime, I’d like to post this poem that I have wrote the most recent of all. “Black” is the title—perhaps inspired by the song title of one of my most fave rock band---or otherwise. But “Black” as a title is solid like a pure jewel, unhindered in its splendor, and unbending in its stand.
As a poem, it might not be so joyful and exuberant---but this might be just perhaps of some coyness that I felt once, when I wrote this poem specifically, and the seemingly downward emotions that are contained within it might or might not have been appertaining. It might have been of depression or of an emotional meltdown. Or the emotions might have just been a fruit of my playful discretion. Whatever.
Here it goes, I hope it would gain some form of critical triumph from my blog friends who would come and read this poem, and then criticize it. I hope they’d be so generous with their words. J
Black as the night,
Dark like the moon on this August evening,
While the sea heaves a silent sigh,
I can see black as the color of the night.
Black is the heart that yearns so mightily,
A sudden scream, like thunder and lightning,
And in the midst of the ocean by which once I claim,
Lies the blackest of all sentiments.
Black is the elixir of love
That heals the cut that you made,
And dances away the sorrow
Of a forgotten kingdom where no one lives.
So dark is the sky
That bore your wounds,
With lies and masquerades, so malevolent
Like the edges of a cliff.
Black is the color of dreams,
That once was laid on my shoulders, as Atlas once did,
And dark is the road
That once had led me to you.
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